


Unicorns are Just Magical Horses

by purpletrees



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Foxglove Summer spoilers, Implied Peter Grant/Thomas Nightingale, M/M, World War Two, more through parallels than anything though, or at least their close friendship, sad dead gay wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletrees/pseuds/purpletrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Mellenby firmly believes that a modern British army should have progressed past the point of compulsory horse-riding lessons for its officers. </p><p>Nightingale recalls some of his previous equine adventures and tries to hold on to the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nightingale suppressed a smirk as Mellenby eyed the horse skeptically. 

"When are we going to need to ride a horse in Germany? It's the 1940s - we'd be better off spending our time learning how to fly a plane or drive a tank or, I don't know, even a zeppelin driving course would be more useful."

"It's still an integral part of officer training, David. Plus you don't know to what theatre we'll be deployed." Nightingale gave the horse a friendly pat as he surveyed the fallow field. 

"The only thing we'll be doing to horses is eating them." The horse seemed to snort at that. "See it knows what it's good for."

"I'll give you a leg up." Thomas was smiling properly now. It seemed like there were so few times to smile recently.

"Will you now." David was finally smiling a bit too - despite the proximity of the horse. "Well, that would still leave me with astride an animal with a mind of it's own. Do you get magical horses? Unicorns? Horses you can do magic on without them getting the wrong idea and running in the opposite direction?"

"Horses do not run - they gallop. Plainly my grand adventures in the Empire have over stimulated your parochial mind." 

David leaned forward, his breath warm in the dawn air. "Yes, tell me more of the great Thomas Nightingale: defeater of anarchists, liberator of besieged diplomats and the terror of the Arabian steed. Tell me how he was never once abandoned in the middle of desert by a member of the Equidae family." 

Thomas closed his eyes for just too long. There was no one here but it was still too public. How he missed David's rooms at Christchurch or even the bedsit in Kensington he'd taken when they couldn't fit him in at the Folly. The barracks reminded him of the worse parts of Casterbrook. "We need to get you on this horse before everyone else wakes up and comes to watch the great Professor Mellenby be thrown like an undignified oaf." 

"I just can't help but think that science, that modern warfare, has progressed past the horse." He positioned his foot in Thomas' waiting hands, grasped the saddle, and after two goes managed to swing his other leg around. 

The horse shook his head and throughly failed to bolt. "One test does not a theory prove, Thomas." 

David finally took the reins and with a few choice Latin phrases Nightingale let the horse start. Another muttered phrase and it started to canter, throwing David's head back, causing him to curse. 

When horse finally returned Thomas' shiny cavalry boots had sunk in to the mud. 

David pulled the reins slightly but the horse seemed to halt at Nightingale on its own accord."I still think that if the British Army's only magic expeditionary force has to ride into battle on anything it should be on unicorns. Think of the look on Fritz's face." He paused, gave the ground a long look, and returned his gaze to Thomas. "They'll think we're so antiquated that next air strike will come down from a squadron of Griffins."

Thomas let out a quiet laugh and went to help his friend down, careful not to put his hands where a gentleman should not. 

Once David was on terra firma, Thomas knocked some imaginary dust off his epaulets whilst David rambled, "It's a very heraldic animal, Thomas, just the steed for an aspiring military wizard to be mown down from by machine gun fire."

Thomas grimaced even though he knew there would be no cavalry charges. As a child he'd sworn he'd never be a soldier after he had heard what had happened to his brother at Ypres. He remembered the conversions he'd had arranging exit papers for volunteers in Barcelona, who had tried to show Johnny Foreigner how to fight the fascists only to find out that they were just as unwanted. They'd seemed like school boys: all drunk on the decaying ideals of Pax Britannica. 

The morning haze was finally showing signs of burning off as they led the horse back to the stables. David, to his credit, said nothing - caught in his own thoughts.

At the stable Thomas removed the horse's saddle and closed the stall. He watched David give it a careful pat on the nose causing. The horse snorted and shook its mane: they never going to be friends. Thomas felt David's familiar camouflage spell spread around them as he stepped into Thomas' space, "thank you, Thomas. Though I don't think I'm any threat to your position as knight in shining armor who rides to the rescue of wayward wizards held captive in foreign lands." 

"I rather think if fairy tale dragons were as easy to bribe as Austrian border police the stories wouldn't have endured." 

"Still, I can always count on you to come to my rescue. Thank you again, Thomas." 

"I do know how much you hate to look the fool." Thomas placed his hands on David's arms and squeezed. 

"Especially in front of you." David leaned in further, his forehead resting against Thomas' nose. 

Thomas' breath caught, "I've seen you in far more compromising positions than lolly-gagging around on a horse." 

David raised his head and their lips met briefly first, until Thomas couldn't stand it and pulled David flush against him. Their kiss must have only lasted seconds but their desperation made time draw out. 

David was the one to pull back, "There are certain positions I wouldn't mind being seen in again. Once we're fully trained officers who have earned their shore leave." David dropped the glamour and they separated. 

"Horse riding is such underrated skill for the budding sailor." Thomas smiled thinly and David crossed his arms, sticking out his chin. 

When they reached the stable door David added, "It would be a shame not to get to ride unicorns. They're the national animal of Scotland, which was always seemed suspicious to me. Think of all the naughty things you could get up to in a kilt with that horn." 

They both burst out laughing so hard that they had to pause for Thomas catch his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The present is more painful when it reminds you of the past.

"Unicorns. I still can't quite get my head around the idea that I won a fight with a unicorn."

Nightingale looked up from his telegraph crossword. I had only come back from Hertfordshire yesterday and had decided to get an early start writing up my notes over breakfast. The Folly was just going to have to cope with my subpar handwriting.

"Did anyone think they really existed?" I asked, despite having a pretty solid idea of the answer. 

"No. Unicorns were a somewhat surprising development."

"I think I was more surprised."

"Quite." Nightingale jotted something down on the crossword and sipped his tea.

"Fairy land was pretty weird too. Find any references to other wizards who'd wandered in?"

Nightingale put down his newspaper, "not who returned, which rather highlights that whilst your actions were admirable they showed a worrying lack of care for your own safety." 

I steeled myself: I knew this was coming ever since Nightingale had spoken to Beverley, "I was rather counting on my knight in shining armor, sir."

Nightingale nodded, "So you arranged Ms Brook's most timely intervention in advance? Only she implied that your recovery was more fortuitous than orchestrated."

I squirmed slightly, "it wasn't Bev who I was counting on, sir."

Nightingale's tone was suddenly deadly serious, "Peter, while your faith in me is touching, I need you to understand the risks that you take. I need you to understand that I might not always be there to extract you from every dangerous situation you end up in."

"If I could take out a marauding unicorn you could definitely take out twenty, easily." 

He let out a short breath, "I know that you understand the point I'm trying to make. I'm not going..."

"Did you know that the unicorn is the national animal of Scotland?" I cut him off before he repeated himself. 

I expected him to tell me that I needed to focus and then I would have succeeded in my dastardly plan to distract him. Instead the colour drained from his face. I would say it was like he had seen a ghost but I'd seen him stare down a variety of specters with, at most, one raised eyebrow. His hand shot out and grasped my wrist across the table. He was gripping it so hard that I had to flex my fingers to get the circulation going.

"There'll be a point that I won't be able to save you, Peter. There will always be a point that I won't be able to save you, please Peter, understand." His voice was level but disjointed like he was struggling to breath. 

And in that moment I saw something in his eyes that I 'd never seen before: pure fear. 

"I'll just have to make sure by that point it's me who rescues you, sir." I said lightly, "especially if it's from homicidal Scottish horses." 

Nightingale lessened his grip and took another sip of his tea like it was the most interesting thing in the world, "that is not an encounter we should encourage anytime soon." And then after a long pause, he finally removed his hand from my bare skin. He turned his head away, addressing the empty room, but still lowered his voice, "Imagine what damage they could do to anyone in a kilt."

We laughed and I knew things would be alright for at least a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't actually know if the horse riding was complusory. However, my grandad did his british army officer training '44-'45 and at some point he was put on a horse. Or at least he told me that once. He also had no idea what to do with the animal so I decided that academic Mellenby had previously lived as much of a horse free life as possible.


End file.
